


Blue Moon Revisited

by TheMagicMicrobus (CallMeCaptainOrSir)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU prompt, Day 7, Depression, Dreams, Gender Queer Yurio, Immortality, Love, M/M, Mari is the Dusk, Moments, Moon, Pagan Gods, People Watching, Personified Moon, Phichit is the Dawn, Promises, She's a goddess, Sort of Transgirl, Understanding, VictUuri, Victor prompt, Victuuri Week, Who does what she wants, Who goes by Albina, Yuuri is the Moon, but i mean, mythos, patience - Freeform, yuuri prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 06:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9708986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeCaptainOrSir/pseuds/TheMagicMicrobus
Summary: The moon is ancient. And the moon is alone. The stars have long burned out and all he has left is the echoes of their light. Until, one night, he finds a star on earth, trapped in a man.Based on the song "Song For Elvis" by Cowboy Junkies. It's also called "Blue Moon Revisited".





	

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for day 7 of Victuuri week! I've decided to use all the prompts!  
> This will be a multichaptered fic, but nothing too long.

> _ Things look so different from this side of the river _
> 
>  
> 
> _The way the street lights shine like stars too heavy to sit above the earth_
> 
> _ like hearts too lonely to stay apart _
> 
> _ I know it’s pollution but _
> 
>  
> 
> _The sky glows the color of magic the color of your hair_
> 
> _ bright in the evening air _
> 
> _ like dreams frozen solid _
> 
> _ and eyes that can’t break their gaze _
> 
>  
> 
> _ And I know that it’s cold and I know that it’s late _
> 
>  
> 
> _ I know that the subway really isn’t safe _
> 
>  
> 
> _In the shining darkness of this light solid enough to hold you_
> 
> _ warm enough to keep you safe _
> 
>  
> 
> _ And from the other side of the river _
> 
> _ there are people laughing _
> 
> _ and people leaving _
> 
> _ The sun is rising _
> 
>   
>  _ But things look different from this side of the river _

 

When you’re as old as the moon, time seems different. You stop thinking in terms of days or months or years. Everything fades out until all that remains are moments. The moment when anger became rage became an irreparable mistake. The moment when friendship turned to love. The moment when love was lost. The moon doesn’t think in terms of time. He thinks in emotions. He thinks in lives and dreams and loses.

The moon has no one to share his nights with. He shares them with all. He watches through the darkness as people fall together and fall apart. His time is for the lovers and the lost ones who appeal to him. The moon holds no judgments, only understanding. After all, how can you judge something as beautiful as life?

It’s like listening to a song about what it’s like to be alive. Reading a book about doing something great. No matter how much he has seen, no matter how much he has heard, the moon is alone. No one speaks to him, they all speak _at_ him. He is a symbol. A stand in for someone they wish was there. The moon has been the dead, the lost, the forgotten and the missing. He has never been himself. He has never particularly cared.

When you’re as old as the moon it would be easy to stop caring, to stop listening. Easy to let the moments blur together. After all, none of these emotions are yours. None of these words are his. But the moon is infinite in his patience. In this way, his love is deeper than all others. Never has he seen one who is willing to give up everything as he has, for he was not always the moon.

 

Long, long ago, when the Earth was new and the stars were still burning, the moon was a one of them. Even now, he can tell the difference between which lights in the tapestry of night are simply ghosts of their long dead selves and which still shine on in the distance. These days, all but a few are gone. The moon was a star who listened. The others all burned themselves out and burned themselves up. The moon was patient. He listened to the first cries of the human race, and the sounds of his brothers dying. And he found something the other stars never did. This was where the moon learned love. And the moon changed.

Now, the moon has only the moments of others. No stars shine to keep him company. But he continues his watch anyway. For the moon is a creature of habit and he cannot bring himself to look away.

He looks for something, but he doesn’t quite know what.

 

…

 

One day, he found it. The moon still couldn’t put a name to what he had found, but he knew it all the same. A man with hair the color of star light, who moved with the power of all the moments the moon had ever seen. There was something so incredible to the way he danced across the ice. A single man, pouring himself into the open, baring his soul for all to see. It was as though he didn’t care who saw him. All those eyes, all those cameras and he was still just is true self. Watching him, the moon felt something he had not felt ever before. Desire, for something for himself. The desire to know this man.

 

Some nights, the moon is a man. When his sister blocks him out and his absence will not be noticed, the moon slips away. He makes his way down to Earth. He walks among those he knows so well. And every time, he returns a little less alone.

 

…

 

Lights glinted off his glasses. The moon stood in the corner of the large banquet room, a glass of champagne clutched in his hand. He rolled the stem slowly between his fingers. _Never been nervous before._ The moon found he liked it in spite of the somewhat unpleasant churning feeling in his stomach. The silver haired man seemed the center of attention. The crowd flowed around him, as though he held some form of personal gravity.

A wide smile stretched his face. Everyone seemed convinced of his joy, and kept congratulating him on his victory. The moon knew better. Something about the way he stood said he wanted nothing more than to run from the banquet as fast as his long legs could carry him. Something in the way his smile made his eyes seem sad spoke as clearly as words.

The moon drained his glass and quickly refilled it. No one spared a glance for him anyway. The alcohol did nothing for him usually, but this time he forced his natural resistance away. Never having truly felt the effects of it before, it didn’t take much before he was pleasantly drunk. That feeling in the pit of his stomach vanished as he made his way across the room.

The silver haired beauty turned at his somewhat unsteady approach. That smile crept slightly closer to genuine.

“Hi. I’m...Yuuri. What’s your name?”

Someone tittered behind him, but the most brilliant smile Yuuri had ever seen burst across the man’s face. “Hi. I’m Viktor.”

“Viktor, would you like to dance?”

“I would love to dance.”

Yuuri grabbed his hand, leading him into the center of the floor. With a thought, the quiet background music changed to the gentle opening notes of “Skater’s Waltz”.

As the crowded cleared space for them, Yuuri twirled Viktor across the floor. He lead in name only, their bodies moving together as if the other knew what they were thinking before they thought it. No one spoke, and Yuuri found himself sporting a grin to match Viktor’s. Despite the eyes on them, the publicity of this private moment, he couldn’t help but be satisfied. Yuuri had chased the sorrow from the silver man’s eyes.


End file.
